Legally Bound: Pregnant with my Rival's Baby

Chapter 26

The soft clink of fine china echoed through the opulent dining room of the Hawthorne family estate. I sat across from my mother, Miranda, trying to maintain my composure as she dropped her latest bombshell.

"Her name is Vivian Ashcroft," my mother was saying, a self-satisfied smile playing at her lips. "She's the daughter of Judge Ashcroft – you remember him, don't you, darling? Such a lovely family. Anyway, I've arranged for you to have dinner with her tomorrow night at Le Bernardin." I set down my fork, appetite suddenly gone. "Mother," I began, fighting to keep my voice level, "I appreciate your... concern for my social life, but I'm not interested in being set up right now."

Miranda's eyes narrowed slightly, the only outward sign of her displeasure. "Derek, darling, I know you have this... situation with Ms. Chen to deal with, but that's no reason to put your entire life on hold. Vivian is a wonderful girl from an excellent family. She'd be a much more suitable partner for someone in your position."

The casual dismissal of Sophia sent a wave of... something through me. Anger? Frustration? I couldn't quite place it. "Sophia isn't a 'situation' to be dealt with, Mother. She's the mother of my child. My child. Your grandchild."

"Yes, yes," Miranda waved her hand dismissively. "And of course you'll do right by the child. But that doesn't mean you need to saddle yourself with Ms. Chen for the rest of your life. Vivian understands the demands of a high-profile career. She'd be a much better fit for you in the long run."

I opened my mouth to argue further, but something in my mother's expression gave me pause. There was a desperation there, a fear lurking behind her polished exterior. For the first time, I considered that maybe this wasn't just about maintaining the family's social standing. Maybe, in her own misguided way, my mother was trying to protect me.

With a sigh, I relented. "One dinner, Mother. That's all I'm agreeing to. And I make no promises beyond that."

Miranda's face lit up with triumph. "Wonderful! You won't regret this, Derek. Vivian is absolutely charming. I'm sure you'll hit it off splendidly."

The next evening found me seated across from Vivian Ashcroft at one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city. She was, as my mother had promised, beautiful and intelligent. Yet as the evening wore on, I found myself growing increasingly irritable, constantly checking my phone.

Why hasn't Sophia texted? It had been days since our heated exchange after the court hearing. Not that I cared, I told myself firmly. It was probably for the best that we maintained some distance.

"Derek?" Vivian's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "You seem a bit distracted. Is everything alright?"

I forced a smile, guilt washing over me. "I'm sorry, Vivian. I've just got a lot on my mind with work."

She nodded sympathetically. "Of course. I heard you're involved in a big merger case. It must be very stressful."

"It is," I agreed, latching onto the safe topic. "Actually, we just had a major setback in court last week. The opposing counsel made a brilliant argument that-" I cut myself off, realizing I was about to launch into a glowing description of Sophia's courtroom performance. Why the hell was I talking about her again?

Vivian, however, seemed intrigued. "Go on," she encouraged. "I'd love to hear about it. Father always says that the most interesting legal minds are the ones that can appreciate a worthy opponent."

For a moment, I was tempted. Tempted to tell her about Sophia's fierce intelligence, her unwavering determination, the fire in her eyes when she was arguing a point. But I held back, suddenly uncomfortable with the direction of my thoughts.

"It's probably not that interesting to someone outside the case," I deflected. "Tell me more about your work with the symphony board. That sounds fascinating."

As Vivian launched into a story about fundraising galas and temperamental conductors, I found my mind wandering again. This time, to the last time I'd seen Sophia. The anger in her eyes, the hurt in her voice. Why did that memory bother me so much?

As I drove home later that night, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling in my chest. It wasn't missing Sophia, I insisted to myself. It couldn't be. I was just... concerned about the tension between us. That was all.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I pulled over and grabbed my phone. "Hey," I typed, "I know things have been tense, but maybe we could grab coffee tomorrow? As an olive branch."

I hit send before I could second-guess myself, then spent the next few minutes staring at my phone, willing it to buzz. When it finally did, I had to force myself not to snatch it up too eagerly.

"OK," came Sophia's reply.

It was just one word, but I felt an inexplicable rush of... relief? Anticipation? I pushed the feeling aside, disgusted with myself. This was just a professional courtesy, I told myself. An attempt to smooth things over for the sake of our working relationship. Nothing more.

As I pulled back onto the road, I couldn't quite suppress the small smile tugging at my lips. The moment I noticed it, I scowled, angry at my own reaction. It didn't mean anything, I insisted silently. It was just coffee. Just an olive branch.

Yet as I drove through the quiet streets, my mind kept drifting back to Sophia. The way her eyes lit up when she laughed. The adorable scrunch of her nose when she was concentrating hard on something. The fierce determination in her voice when she was arguing a point.

"Stop it," I growled out loud, smacking the steering wheel in frustration. What the hell was wrong with me? Why couldn't I stop thinking about her? It was infuriating, this constant pull towards someone who clearly wanted nothing to do with me outside of our professional obligations.

By the time I reached home, I was seething with self-directed anger. I threw my keys onto the counter with more force than necessary, running a hand through my hair in exasperation. This was pathetic. I was Derek Hawthorne, for God's sake. I didn't pine after women, especially not ones who had made it clear they wanted space.

As I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, I tried to convince myself that this meetup was purely about maintaining a cordial working relationship. Nothing more. I repeated it like a mantra, willing it to be true. But even as I did, a traitorous part of my mind kept replaying memories of Sophia's smile, the sound of her laugh, the feeling of her hand in mine.

I punched my pillow in frustration, turning over with an angry huff. This had to stop. Then, a new thought occurred to me, a lifeline I grasped at desperately: This was about the baby. Of course. That's why I couldn't get Sophia out of my head. I just wanted to be involved in my child's life. That was natural, right? Expected, even.

"It's about the kid," I muttered to myself, clinging to this explanation. "I'm just trying to be a good father. That's all this is."

But even as I said it, I knew it wasn't the whole truth. Yes, I wanted to be there for my child, but that didn't explain the way my heart raced at the thought of seeing Sophia tomorrow. It didn't account for the warmth that spread through my chest when I remembered her laugh, or the inexplicable urge I had to make her smile again.

"Damn it," I growled, flipping onto my back again. This was pathetic. I didn't pine after women, especially not ones who had made it clear they wanted space. And yet here I was, unable to sleep because I couldn't stop thinking about Sophia.

I took a deep breath, trying to regain control. Tomorrow, I'd see Sophia, we'd clear the air, and then I could finally get her out of my system. It was just coffee, just an olive branch. Just a chance to discuss co-parenting arrangements. Nothing more.

Maybe if I repeated it enough times, I'd actually believe it. But as sleep finally claimed me, my last thought was of Sophia, and I drifted off cursing my own weakness, dreading and anticipating tomorrow in equal measure, and stubbornly ignoring the voice in the back of my mind that whispered this was about far more than just being a good father.